


Manufactured Dogma

by Gayrob0t



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breaking new ground, M/M, Man this fic is a monster, four chapters instead of three?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:10:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayrob0t/pseuds/Gayrob0t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's got stuff and things.</p><p>Sunyatta's in this one?</p><p>¯\_(ツ)_/¯ </p><p>Get ready for garbage</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Genji woke up behind bars. His thoughts foggy and uncoordinated. Where was he?

_Cairo._

At least, he _had_ been visiting Cairo with Zenyatta. They were looking for someone. It'd been difficult to stay close to each other in the constantly moving and bustling city. Genji hadn't noticed until it was too late that they were being watched. Followed. They had ambushed him right in the street.

_Zenyatta._

He could remember the omnic's face vanishing into the crowd as Genji was pinned and suffocated. His world had gone dark before he could see his fate.

Now there was no telling if he was still even in the city, though if the heat was any indication, he couldn't be out of Egypt. The room was solid stone, except for the bars that separated him from another, larger room. On a table sat his katana and his short blade, along with the golden goggles and linen wrap for his face.

_Shit._

The nomadic cybernetics were much better against the heat than the standard gear granted to him by Overwatch, but the mask was too easy for anyone to remove.

He had to escape. He investigated his cell, completely bare save for a stone bench built into the wall. The bars were a bit more revealing. Despite the archaic design of the prison, the door was controlled remotely. Likely by some electronic pad nearby if this was only a dungeon and not an actual prison facility.

He couldn't see any kind of control pad from where he was stuck, and so he'd have to wait. He hadn't been given any food or water, so they'd either be brought to him, or they intended to let him die down here.

He waited patiently, using the time to meditate on the floor. He had to remain calm while still unsure of his situation. He breathed deep to let his mind empty. Focusing on the inner peace his master had tried so hard to instill in him. He could pass hours this way if he had to. He was going to escape. He was going to find his master. They were going to explore Cairo, then move on across the sea to somewhere new.

Footsteps drew him back to the cell. The guard that stepped into view was burly, but undisciplined.

_Not military._

Genji didn't move, staring back at his captor, who leaned close to the bars. He was wearing light protective gear, a radio was clipped to his shoulder and a wire trailed to his ear.

 _Organized. Mercenary_?

At least dangerous. He held a rifle close to his hip. Held it like he knew how to use it. But he was underestimating Genji, who hadn't moved from the middle of his cell. He stepped closer.

"You awake?" Genji didn't respond. "Going to cause me any trouble?" He was moving to the side of the cell, his eyes never leaving the prisoner. The control pad must have been there. "Boss wants to see you. Im opening the door. No funny business." Genji could hear him pressing the buttons, the beeping of a password being accepted.

"You really are an ugly son of a-" Genji made his move, instantly in front of the guard. His reflexes weren't fast enough, and the ninja had hold of his collar, tugging him head long into the bars with a crack. The door opened as the mercenary fell to the floor, blood trailing down his face.

"Thank you." Genji didn't have time to wonder if he was dead, instead he took his gear from the table.

Escape successful.

Now to find his master.

\--

Genji was silent as he stalked through the building. It sprawled out in long hallways, and high ceilings. Once he'd left the prison wing, he found that it was well decorated. The walls were covered in intricate paintings, pedestals held ancient pottery and delicately woven tapestries framed windows cut directly into the stone walls and shrouded ornate curtains. Outside he could see a great courtyard, the sand trampled down into stone paths and gardens painstakingly attended to, and beyond it all was a great stone wall that must have surrounded this lavish palace that had imprisoned him. The design of everything was clearly taken from more eastern influences that mixed with ancient local architecture. Stone pillars supported balconies and walkways all through the labyrinthian building.

There were some modern enhancements, most of which pertained to security, but no camera was a match for Genji's shuriken. He remained unseen. His progress was halted once or twice by approaching voices, and he'd had to turn back and find a separate path repeatedly to avoid detection, but he was getting a decent idea of the building's layout.

He had found his way to one of the upper floors and he used the opportunity to look out over the wall. There was Cairo. He was still in the city. Or at least on the outskirts of it. That was one answer, now all that was left was to find his master and escape.

His persistence and skill allowed him to go unnoticed through much of the palace, though the north wing was thoroughly defended. He'd come back to it if he had to, but he wasn't comfortable causing a scene without knowing where Zenyatta was.

Genji found some answer in a large central room. He had entered it from the western wing to a second floor indoor balcony. Curtains hung over arches and across the ceiling in a gaudy display that matched the resplendent rugs under his feet. A guard across the way gave him some pause, but he was distracted. Genji realized he was on his phone.

 _Sad_.

Beneath him, he could hear someone talking.

"Yes, yes, I assure you he's safe. He's locked away until he wakes" Genji peered over the railing. There was a man, tall, with dark hair, tied back into a long braid. He was going grey at the temples, but he carried himself with youth. His robes were embroidered in gold and silver against a deep red. He was obviously a man of great means. And he was the one who imprisoned him. He was the one who attacked them. Genji's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade.

 _Assassins and Kings_.

"That was hardly necessary, Genji is not a threat."

Zenyatta. That was his voice. It gave Genji pause. He was here, but not within view. He could kill this man and they could be gone. The guard was putting his phone away, his gaze scanning the room he had been ignoring. Genji had to decide fast, had to act faster.

His feet were on the railing as he was seen. He was pushing off as the guard yelled, catching the attention of who must have been his employer. No matter, Genji had already closed the distance between them, his short blade made a visible arc, his aim clear for the man's throat.

Something heavy and hard lodged into his side, perfectly aimed to hit the unarmored ribs under his arm. He was winded and thrown off course, collapsing to the floor. His blade landed behind him with a useless clink, dropped. The guard upstairs was still yelling about a security breach.

"Many apologies, my pupil, but I can not allow you to attack our host," the orb that incapacitated Genji began to glow, radiating a healing energy that mended its own inflicted damage to his ribs, "Though I understand you must be quite confused."

The richly dyed silken curtains parted, and the omnic that emerged was-

Awe inspiring.

His entire visage took on a clear majesty that had not always been apparent. Zenyatta's previously smooth nonthreatening face had been replaced with all knowing red eyes, that peered through Genji like he were glass and a short hawk beak that came down to a dangerous point. The gold of his headdress and bangles caught the ambient light in regal splendor, and his long solid black limbs were otherworldly in their powerful grace. And those golden talons, tucked with ease under his loosely draped shendyt were chilling. The curtains slid over his broad shoulders, prolonging the moment before they must depart. It was enough to leave Genji speechless, though he was already trying to catch his breath.

"Truly a vision worthy of the Pharaohs of old," the man was moving past his would-be assassin to embrace Zenyatta. The guard upstairs had gone quiet.

"You're still all flattery," Genji was surprised to see his master not only lower his feet to stand, but to hug the other in obvious camaraderie. Something about watching it felt off, though his clear animosity for the stranger was a likely culprit.

"Only when I mean it, old friend," even though both had leaned back from their greeting, they still held to each other's arms, looking each other up and down.

"You look the same as ever," Zenyatta was laughing, the moment entirely his to savor. Genji realized he still hadn't stood up further than a kneeling position. He grabbed his dropped blade, sheathing it to remind them that he was still there, unfamiliar and forgotten.

It was enough, as Zenyatta released his friend to levitate, his hand made a fluid flourish in introduction. "Genji, this is my dear brother Khaldun, we have known each other for a very long time," the red eyes zeroed in on him, rapt in a way that sent a shiver up the cyborg's spine. "And this is my student, Genji Shimada."

Genji didn't say anything at first. He only looked between the two of them. Something about this Khaldun disturbed him deeply. He wanted to speak to Zenyatta privately, to demand some explanation, but he also couldn't help avoiding those eyes. He only nodded at their apparent host.

"It seems I misunderstood the situation. Deepest regrets for my actions," the apology was dry and insincere, his head cocked slightly, his tone taking on an edge. "But if I must stay in my current room, I would like to request less security."

There was a venom in Khaldun's gaze. The kind that killed men, and would kill more. It was replaced with merriment in a blink, and Zenyatta's friend was laughing off the jab. "Your new student is cheeky."

"But no less correct. I don't appreciate you putting my pupil in a cell." The atmosphere wasn't one of a failed assassination, but there was a hollowness to Genji. Everything was unfamiliar. His master's new appearance must have been throwing him a little.

"I meant no offense," Khaldun's apology was about as sincere as Genji's, "You can never be too careful these days."

 _No you can't_.

Genji already didn't like this old friend. He didn't like this place. He couldn't put his finger on the growing discomfort. Something about he heat, or the guards, or the way Khaldun stood so close to his master.

Genji especially didn't like that.

\--

Cairo was easier to enjoy from the rooftops. And more so still in the shade. It was actually quite beautiful in the setting sun. The stone buildings, some ancient, some new, all shone brilliantly against holographic displays and colored spot lights, all of which were reflected in the Nile.

Genji took it in. It was breathtaking to see the future collide with the ancient past in a conflicting patchwork that tested the human ability to defy entropy. He observed it from high above the crowds, which was becoming less hurried business and blue collar workers and shifting quickly into an active night life. The darkness that fell on the city could only do so partially. In the distance, Genji could see Giza's lights illuminating the void with all the passion of the capital. Cities never sleep. Something he took advantage of, as he couldn't either.

Khaldun had quickly dismissed him. Sending him off with what looked for all the world like a mercenary, but was introduced as captain of the guard, while he 'caught up' with Zenyatta. He'd been shown his room, which was little better than the cell he had already escaped, and given the most unenthusiastic tour of all the places he was allowed to travel in the palace. There weren't many, and he'd seen most of it anyway. The North wing wasn't mentioned. Part way through, Genji had the thought the captain already had from the beginning.

_I'm literally a ninja, you can't keep me in or out of anywhere._

Once he knew this, he cut the tour short. His guide didn't have any complaints, curtly mentioning that he had to check on one of his men's recovery anyway. Genji noted that everywhere he had been shown was largely empty, save for the guard. And there wasn't a hint of his master. Of course, Zenyatta was with _him_.

The thought put a block of ice in the back Genji's head. It made him feel lopsided, awkward and restless, and the world was suddenly half a step off. The feeling had chased him from the palace and brought him to this high roof in the middle of the city. All the ambient activity had a calming effect, at least giving his mind something to focus on beyond the last twenty four hours.

Genji pulled the golden goggles from his eyes and untied the white linen from his face. It was still a feeling he was getting used to, wearing these much cooler garments. It made him think of Zenyatta, his gold and silver hands now dark, moving with authority and extravagance. The bangles around his arms and legs, shiny and regal. Those claws and beak. Those knowing red eyes. They were so different from the Zenyatta he knew. Everything about him looked more domineering, intimidating, imposing.

_'Truly a vision worthy of the Pharaohs of old'_

Khaldun's flattery brought a scowl to Genji's face.

_No Pharaoh is worth a single glimpse of my master._

The lopsided feeling returned. He might as well head back if it were going to follow him up here. At least he'd have some chance of seeing his master there. Zenyatta would know what to say. He need only speak to him alone.

Genji rewrapped and secured the linen about his face and replaced the goggles, adjusting their light and contrast so that he could clearly see the dark shadows as much as the city lights. He nimbly hopped over the edge of the building, catching the ledge so he could push off towards the next. Hidden above their heads, he passed the people silently in a blur of gold and pale blue, until he touched down in the crowded streets themselves.

He didn't feel so out of place here. Omnic and human passed one another without notice, many of whom were dressed more absurd than himself. He didn't need shadows to disappear into this crowd.

Still someone grabbed his arm.

"Have you heard? The Old God returns!" Genji recoiled from the woman. She looked modestly dressed in long clean drapery, a flier in her outstretched hand. "The world will tremble before his might! Prostrate yourself before him and beg for mercy!" Genji took the flier and nodded. He didn't have much patience for proselytizing, but he would not be rude.

"Thank you, excuse me." The woman seemed pleased enough that he took the paper, turning to offer another stranger on the street her message. Genji took a glance at it, where a crude replication of the god Ra stared back at him. Ah yes. God of the sun. Head of a hawk.

He couldn't read the Arabic text, but the picture reminded him of Zenyatta. He carefully folded and tucked it away into the folds of his clothes before continuing back. Maybe his master would find it a little funny.

\--

Genji could feel eyes on him at all times in the palace. The occasional guard would keep watching him long after he passed, and he suspected hidden cameras were recording his every move. Granted, he had attempted to kill their employer, and almost killed one of their friends.

Still, he wandered the grounds as he was allowed, making notes of exit and entry points. Where he was in the open, where he was cornered. He surveyed it as a battle ground. He couldn't convince himself it wasn't.

He hoped to see Zenyatta around any corner. Behind any door. But he was continually disappointed. The omnic was nowhere to be found. Neither was Khaldun. Good riddance and fuck him, but knowing that the two were probably still together had the cyborg muttering grievances and curses under his breath.

"Does he speak through you?" Genji stopped, his hand going to his short blade. It was one of the guards speaking to him. He looked young, wide eyed and optimistic in contrast to his stocky build. Must have just been a kid trying to make a buck.

"What?" Genji didn't release his blade immediately, standing ramrod stiff.

"I heard your whispers, has he sent you?" The world was going off kilter again, but in a different way than before. He didn't understand the question, or how it related to his grumbling.

"I don't- Has _who_ sent me?"

They were interrupted before Genji could get an answer. At the sound of quick footsteps, the guard stood back into his position, mouth shut, eyes forward.

"Shimada," it was his tour guide, the captain, "Your master has requested you." Genji spared a glance and a passing thought to the odd exchange that only just took place, before nodding. It nagged at him as he followed the captain, but he wouldn't pass up the chance to see Zenyatta.

He was led to the north wing, the dimly lit halls were somehow more indulgent than the rest of the place, with intricate carvings set into the stone and silken lace draped over tables covered with statuettes of one god or another. The captain didn't give him time to examine any of it, continuing up stone steps that were open and exposed toward the courtyard. The elegant curtains and stone pillars that shrouded them cast strange shadows in the night. Halfway up the stairs, they met Khaldun walking back down. He regarded Genji briefly, not unlike one would regard an insect in the pantry, before he was speaking to the captain.

"Two, armed. At all times downstairs." He received a salute, dismissed Genji with nothing short of pure contempt (the feeling was mutual) before he continued down the steps. Something was definitely off, and it wasn't just the host's palpable distaste for him. Armed guards for Zenyatta was like locking away an animal. Usually it wasn't for their own benefit. His desire to speak to his master was growing by the second.

Thankfully, at the top of the steps the mercenary held open the door and motioned for him to head inside. Alone.

Finally.

The room was the very definition of extravagance. High ceilings were decorated with the same carvings of the halls accompanied by gold leafing. Sheer curtains draped over archways that lead to unseen rooms of the living quarters. The floor was covered in resplendent rugs and cushions piled into comfortable seating. A tray of bread and wine was laying on a low table in the middle of the floor, partially consumed. Genji thought of their host, here, enjoying Zenyatta's company.

_There's that shift again_

Speaking of, the omnic wasn't here.

Genji crossed the large room, thinking how poorly it suited his master, to one of the curtains, which moved in a slight breeze. Pulling it back, he found who he was looking for. He was levitating on the balcony, engrossed in the view of the illuminated city, his meditation orbs moving quickly behind his head in thought.

Genji wasn't sure what to say now. He tried to imagine the day he must have had, how it would have been vastly different to his own. Was he not entirely adjusted to his new form?

He didn't speak as he stepped out onto the open night air. His sights were on the curve of Zenyatta's back, the delicate fabric and smooth shoulders, but he faced out towards the city as he took his place at his master's side. After all, even if they looked different, they were still teacher and student. Nothing had changed.

Zenyatta turned his head slightly, acknowledging him. His orbs slowed their pensive motion, instead encircling them both. He didn't speak, only looking Genji up and down.

"So, God of the sun?" Genji teased, and Zenyatta laughed. The world fell back into step and Genji felt less off balance at the sound of it.

"It's much better suited to this climate," black slender fingers tapped the golden ankh on his chest, where Genji could hear the unmistakable sound of moving liquid. Coolant, flowing continually throughout his system. "Khaldun insisted on it." Genji's brow furrowed, and he changed the subject.

"You 'requested' me?" There was a quick click, and Genji realized Zenyatta had made the sound with his beak.

"Not at all, I said I wished to go see you," the meditation orbs had moved back around his neck, their arcs wider than usual to surround the headdress. "I had hoped to go into the city." He was looking out again, his tone distant and dreamy.

Genji spent a moment looking out in silence, trying to see what about it had captured his master's attention. It was certainly beautiful from here, but he suspected his master's thoughts lied with the people in it.

"Master," he hated to tear him away from whatever enraptured him, but he had been waiting all day to speak to his master, "I'm concerned about," he tried to keep the animosity out of his voice, "your friend." He wasn't remotely successful.

Zenyatta didn't speak at first, weighing what had been said and what hadn't. He waved his hand in dismissal to the city, as if saying goodnight, before he pulled back the curtain to the large sitting room.

"Then we should discuss your concerns."

\--

Genji pulled off his goggles and head coverings, trying to relax in their uncharacteristic luxury. Thankfully, he didn't feel the constant eyes on him here. Zenyatta hardly seemed to notice any of it one way or another, his mind elsewhere. Genji couldn't help but feel like the roles were reversed. His master distracted and absent.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, Zenyatta dismissed the question with a fluid wave of his hand. He was speaking more in gestures it seemed, each one unquestionable and sure. Combined with the royal attire, rigid posture, and avian face, Genji couldn't help but feel he really was being granted an audience with some God.

"Tell me what troubles _you_ , my pupil." And there was Zenyatta, very much a simple soul within an omnic shell. Genji's teacher, master and friend.

"Something's not right," the ninja could feel it in his gut. It went beyond the initial ambush and his prison cell. Something in the air wasn't right. He tried to find the words to explain it. "We were attacked, I was left in a cell and _this_ -?" He motioned at the great room. Zenyatta was nodding, his fingers drumming slowly on his knee. "I have a very bad feeling about this." His master let the silence settle between them before he replied.

"Your discomfort here is understandable." He was looking around the room, obviously not entirely comfortable with the arrangements either. "But I have been speaking with Khaldun," the way Zenyatta said his name brought back that off balance feeling, "he is a cautious man, with many secrets. Many of which even I do not know." He sounded faraway again, "He has allowed you to freely come and go, and regrets his initial haste to violence."

"He's left armed mercenaries at your door." Genji challenged. The news was enough to make his master pause, but he shook his head.

"I know that he is difficult to understand, but I trust him."

" _I don't_." It came out as a hiss, louder than Genji had intended.

Zenyatta didn't say anything, his gaze bearing down on his student. His fingers were still as he considered him. His eyes were... _scary_. An instinctual and baser fear of the hawk as a predator staring down its prey. Genji's heart started to race. He could hear it in his ears when his master lowered his feet to stand. It was deafening as he closed the space between them, the golden beak inches from his face and red eyes focused entirely upon him, making him feel incredibly small.

"He doesn't trust you, either." It was a level admission, "Should I believe you before him?" The question capsized everything and burned a solid hole through Genji's mind. He knew this feeling. This displacement that had flirted with him throughout the day. He was fiercely jealous, and it showed through the tightening of his fists, hardening of eyes, and clench of his jaw. Zenyatta knew. Of course he knew. He knew Genji down to the core.

"He is my dear friend and you are my beloved student," Zenyatta's hand touched his student's side where he had previously bruised the ribs, thoughtfully running his fingers down the tan synthetics to the stiff fabric. His touch was a blessing, reassuring that any jealousy was unfounded. "What would you have me do?"

Genji could only close his eyes, unable to look into his any longer. He couldn't ask him to choose, and, besides the initial ambush, his concerns were so far unfounded by hard evidence. All of it was a matter of conjecture and personal pride. And a gut feeling. Something about this place had him constantly on edge, and now he was uncertain of everything except Zenyatta's delicate fingers against his side.

"I'm sorry." Genji was tired, the day had been long, and his room was far away in this labyrinthian palace.

"Don't be," Zenyatta stepped back, his feet leaving the floor once again, "I've had my own doubts today." Genji opened his eyes to see his master looking at the religious flier he had been handed in the streets. His hands instinctually went to where he'd kept it in the folds of his clothing. Empty.

"A woman in the city was handing them out," he explained. Zenyatta was reading it carefully. He chuckled, handing it back.

"Did you see something you liked?" He was kidding, teasing his student in that familiar way. It was a warm reminder. Genji's jealousy was feeling less necessary the more he was around. His laugh was quiet and only a little awkward as he put the paper away.

"Sleep, Genji. The morning will be here before we know it." He wasn't looking at his student, instead his attention was back out to the balcony. Genji couldn't help but feel like he was holding on to something difficult. Something that weighed heavily on him. He wanted to ask, to see if there might be some way to bring relief to his troubled mind, as the omnic had done for him so many times before.

"Master-"

"It can't be helped," Zenyatta saved him the trouble. "You need not worry for me."

"I was only going to insist that you rest as well," Genji lied, but it was a kind lie. One his master must have appreciated, because after a moment of silence, he turned away from the balcony to sit on one of the many soft cushions. If Genji could do nothing else, he could do as he always had. And so he tossed a pillow into his master's lap so he could lay across his legs, making himself comfortable.

Zenyatta placed a hand on his student's head, petting him absently, his mind still elsewhere. Genji didn't press it, instead asking something that had been on his mind.

"How did you meet Khaldun?" The name was a coal on his tongue, but he pushed past it.

"He helped me to reach Nepal." Zenyatta's answer held many more questions, but Genji didn't ask any of them. He closed his eyes and drifted off to the sound of continually flowing coolant and the ambient white noise of an internal fan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's sin here  
> (￣▽￣)ノ

_"I never agreed to this. I beg you not to ask this of me."_

Genji could hear lowered voices. The sun had risen, and its heat rested on him like a physical weight.

_"You agreed to enough. It is already decided. You have your deadline."_

Genji's cooling systems were starting to work overtime, pushing out the heat. He used that as his excuse to eaves drop.

" _He is my student, not my slave,"_ his eyes snapped open, looking toward the balcony curtains. Zenyatta was speaking with Khaldun. About him. _"I cannot simply dismiss him and that be the end of it. Three days is not enough._ "

Dismiss him? Genji sat up, his thoughts racing. Was he going to be sent away? What was this deadline? Three days? His jealousy was turning into a more legitimate grievance.

 _"That is your problem, you insisted that he-"_ they both stopped, Zenyatta's hand outstretched in warning.

"Genji?"

Damn it. He'd been noticed. He delayed his answer, retrieving this facial coverings from the table. Once they were secured, he stepped out onto the balcony, a wave of heat assaulting his senses.

"Yes, Master?" He spared a glance at Khaldun, but otherwise returned the cold shoulder he'd been granted. Zenyatta wasn't looking at either of them. He only had eyes for the buildings that grew from the fertile soil deposited by the Nile. Their splendor held his attention exclusively.

"I'd like you to go see the people in my place, today." Genji almost balked at the suggestion. He didn't exactly radiate the harmony and peace his master did, and he wasn't even that great at small talk, much less explorative personal connection. It was likely a ploy to get him gone. The world didn't go off balance so much as it tried to trip him.

"I don't think I could live up to your standard, Zenyatta." The omnic's head lowered, the orbs that had been slowly turning stopped. He was obviously conflicted on some level.

"There is no standard, my pupil." He said, "Do as you can." Genji wanted to protest, but before he could debate further, he was cut off by a quiet plead from his master. " _Please_. If only one person is changed for the better, it will be enough."

All his fight was sapped away by the look of Zenyatta's defeated back. Khaldun was waiting, his face set into a well practiced unreadable mask. The air between the two was different. An unnamed tension hung heavy between them and made simple jealousy petty in comparison. Genji tried to imagine what could have affected his master this way.

"I'll do as I can."

As he left the balcony, he heard Khaldun level a low criticism.

_"You coddle him."_

He kept walking, a sour taste in his mouth, knowing that staying would be fruitless. The sight of Zenyatta's back, struggling against his thoughts, his head lowered, further prompted him to go. It wasn't until Genji opened the door to the descending stairs that he heard Zenyatta's reply.

_"I know."_

\--

Cairo was crowded and busy, as usual. Cars tried to push against the sea of people that sometimes overflowed the sidewalk and into the streets. The grass and soil closer to the ancient river were refreshing compared to the compacted sand and manicured gardens around the palace.

Genji stood quietly between two buildings, watching the flow of faces. Some gave him a passing glance, but most ignored him, more interested in their destinations. Each one of those faces had lives, dreams, a family. Someone they loved. Someone they hated. Some had been betrayed by someone they trusted. Some had betrayed others themselves. Some had given up everything. Some stole for their daily bread. Some were building empires. Some were tearing them down. The cyborg couldn't imagine how Zenyatta had even begun.

It had mattered deeply to his master; connecting with people. It must have, for all he'd sacrificed for it. The path he had chosen to follow alone. Was he as uncertain then as Genji was now? He couldn't imagine Zenyatta doubting his conviction, not even as troubled as he was now. Genji tried to make some sense of what he'd head on the balcony. Zenyatta wouldn't really make him leave, certainly? And what was this agreement between the two? There was something he was missing. Something vital. He wasn't seeing the whole picture.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a commotion down the street. He could hear their raised voices over the city's din, and the crowd was parting. Genji moved from the alley to get a better look, a bit more out of place in the day crowd than the night.

A man and woman were fighting, their shouting match heated. Most of the people hurried past, but a few had stopped to observe the spectacle. Genji stood close to the building, out of the way of the passersby.

"What's going on?" He asked another spectator, who looked scandalized by the public display.

"She's one of those Old God cultists," the man's tone was enough to tell that he didn't think very highly of the belief. "She's been preaching about some prophet since yesterday."

Genji unconsciously touched the fabric where the religious flier was still tucked away. Was this the woman who gave it to him? He struggled to remember her face. He hadn't been paying attention.

"I saw him! I know I did!" She was yelling, pleading, her voice sounded hoarse and exhausted. "I know he watches over the faithful!" Her words only seemed to ignite more rage in the man.

"Heretic! You're giving up everything for this foolish lie!" He'd had enough of her, his hand drew back. Genji wasn't going to be passive while someone was assaulted in the middle of the road. Zenyatta would have been deeply disappointed in him. He supposed this was one of the few ways he knew how to help. Without effort, he went from spectator to participant, standing between the two, knocking away the open palm with the back of his hand.

The entire street slowed around him. His interference had drawn more attention than their spat, and no one was sure what to do next. The man's expression was a mix of surprise and rage.

"Please do not hurt each other," Genji tried to think of a reason he could use to explain his interruption. What would Zenyatta say? How would he diffuse this situation? He could picture him out in the distance, watching from his balcony. Enraptured and attentive. Genji used what he'd learned from him, "Violence leaves an ugly stain that cannot be undone."

The man lowered his hand, sizing up the cyborg. The look in his eyes said he didn't buy the rhetoric, but the fight wouldn't be worth it. Close enough.

"Don't come home." He spat his parting words to Genji's feet and turned away, disappearing into the crowd, which was starting to disperse now that all the tension from the encounter had drained away. Genji waited until he couldn't see him anymore before turning around to find the woman on her hands and knees, her head touched to the ground at his feet.

_Oh boy._

This was the personal connection part. He didn't have any confidence in it so far.

"I'm sorry, are you alright?" He reached down to offer her help up. She stared at the hand, taking hold of it it to place a reverent kiss on his fingers.

 _Okay_. This already wasn't going well.

"I know who you are," her gaze was intent, her eyes wet and filled with awe, "I knew he'd send you."

This was starting to feel like a mistake. Maybe she knew Zenyatta? The odds were against it, but he didn't know what else she could mean.

"Yes," he cleared his throat, uncomfortable and awkward. "My master sent me in his place." He tried to shift the focus of the conversation, "Are you alright? It sounded like you were giving up a lot for your, uh, your faith." The woman gripped his hand, pulling herself up and moving close enough to speak quietly in the crowd closing around them.

"I will not falter, I would give up everything."

Time to bail. Genji wasn't sure how his master did it. People were crazy. Absolutely mad. He disengaged himself from her grasp. She only smiled after him, a mixture of joy and devotion written across her face. Pure madness. Genji allowed himself to be swept away by the sea of people, wanting to put some distance between them. The last he saw of her, she was raising her hands to the sky.

\--

Genji couldn't bring himself to talk to anyone else. The encounter stayed with him for the rest of the day. What was that? What would his master have even done? He was aware of every slight crinkle of the paper in his clothes. It weighed next to nothing, but slowed him down nonetheless.

Religion was a scary thing.

He did kind things, at least. He carried heavy things, picked up garbage, ran an errand or two, but he didn't speak at length with anyone. They didn't mind, happy enough for the free labor. He wasn't changing any lives, but he was making someone's day easier. It would have to be enough.

He started walking back in the early twilight, fretting about Zenyatta most of the way. When he reached the high walls of the palace, he noticed that, if he hadn't seen the security himself, he wouldn't think anyone was guarding the place. He could simply walk in the open gate of the walls. Of course, he already knew that he could be seen on the cameras.

_The cameras._

Genji was getting an idea. Not too great an idea, but he was good enough at what he did to maybe pull it off. He was going to find some answers.

He didn't simply walk in. He snuck in. It was actually easier then walking in, because by going directly over the eastern wall and ducking around security put him halfway toward his destination already. The guard's cafeteria.

The mercenaries hadn't displayed any rigid discipline that he could see. Likely their strength lie in the fact that they could keep quiet, but Genji was looking for a specific person. The cafeteria gave him the pick of two. They likely didn't know each other, as they sat quietly at different tables, one engrossed in a book and the other finishing what must have been his dinner, allowing the ninja to slip in unnoticed. The night shift likely had just relieved them, as they had no protective gear or even a radio. One was ganglier than the other, but that was hardly anything to go by. Which had the weaker will? Which one was a coward?

The weedy one stood up, throwing his food into the garbage before leaving without noticing the extra visitor. Genji was alone with the reader now. He was leaning back in his chair, his feet resting on the table top, clearly in no hurry. He'd have to do.

Genji was silent as he moved around to their back. He slid his smaller blade from its sheath, his hands slow but steady as they reached out. The guard must have sensed something was amiss, but he was too late. Genji's hand closed around his mouth and the edge of the blade pressed to the side of his neck.

"If you yell, I'll take your head off." He applied gentle pressure to reassure him that it would take no effort at all to decapitate him. The mercenary was rigid. His book fell to the floor. "I'm looking for something, and I'd like your cooperation. Understand?" He didn't get an immediate reply. The reader's mind was working quickly. Genji gave it a little encouragement by way of a single drop of blood. He got a nod.

"Perfect. Now, where is the security monitoring room?"

 

The door was closed and locked. A single rectangular window obscured most of the interior with frosted glass, but Genji could see the shape of a person inside. Not a problem. He'd already taken care of the cameras in this corridor. He stood out of view and knocked on the door, waiting a few seconds before flicking a star down the hall and taking off in the opposite direction. He was around the corner before the door opened. He heard the clatter of the projectile hitting the floor a moment later.

Peaking around the corner, he could see the guard looking down the other end of the hall. He'd heard it. Would he take the bait?

He did, leaving the door to close on its own as he went to investigate. Genji had two seconds. More than enough time to close the distance and slip inside.

The room was clean, cool, and dark save for the dim glow the monitors cast on the single office chair. Genji eyed the rest of the room out of cautious habit before he studied the screens.

The palace was under heavy surveillance. So much so that he was surprised the observer hadn't seen him coming. Guards milled about in the hallways, some standing at attention and some making conversation. A few of the monitors changed over to static before Genji could find the view he was looking for. Zenyatta.

The camera was out on the balcony, and Genji could see the omnic's profile as he gazed out toward the city. His mind seemed to always be there.

_'I had hoped to go into the city'_

The golden bangles were looking less like finery and more like shackles. Genji realized his master hadn't left that room since they'd arrived here. Why? It all felt wrong. He had to be missing something. The answer must be staring him right in the face and he didn't know it. Why was Khaldun keeping his master locked away? What agreement had they made?

_Why does he want to get rid of me?_

Their host stepped into view of the camera. He was talking. He looked angry. Genji wished there was some sound, wished he could hear the argument. His master hadn't shifted his gaze, but his orbs were cycling quickly around him in clear agitation. Khaldun was still, he must have been listening to some reply. Before Genji could see any more, the monitor shifted its view to the inside of the lavish great room. He could still sometimes see Khaldun pace through the arch that lead outside, but the camera faced the center of the room, the balcony well out of view. Genji couldn't see any more of their dispute.

_'I cannot simply dismiss him and that be the end of it'_

The morning's conversation came back to him like a slap in the face. He wouldn't be dismissed. He refused be sent away. Something else on another screen caught his eye.

He'd never seen this place before. He was tempted to dismiss it as part of the mostly unfamiliar north wing, but it was too large. It looked like a warehouse, filled with shipping crates. Genji studied the image, but there wasn't much to see. Instead he looked through the other monitors to see if he could find another angle.

_How do you make your fortune, Khaldun?_

There. It was the same warehouse, but from the opposite corner. There was someone hosing down the inside of one of the containers, his face covered with a medical mask. Genji couldn't see what was inside, but he was desperate to know.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

Genji stood straight up, turning to the door, but he didn't go for his weapon. Not yet. It was the young mercenary from yesterday, his dark eyes accusatory. He had a gun leveled at his trespasser, but he didn't look at all confident in using it.

_Confident or not, it's pointed at you_

He had asked him about being sent. He reminded Genji of the woman in the street.

"What's your name, young man?" The guard blinked, thrown a little by the question. His aim shifted up and down, not sure what he would damage wherever he fired.

"Zahran. Muhammed Zahran." His answer wavered with nerves. He must have barely been out of his teens. His hair was dark copper, cropped short and messy. His dark young eyes sized Genji up, the cogs clearly turning in his mind.

"What were you talking about?" Genji kept his voice low, using some misdirection, but genuinely curious. "Yesterday."

"About- About your master?" Zahran sounded unsure, his grip on the gun was loosening, "did he send you to me?"

Genji kept a close eye on his hands. He could disarm him without much trouble now. He was being too careless, but there was something in his question that held the ninja's interest.

"Why would he?" The boy was lowering his weapon, not remotely interested in shooting anyone.

"Because I have prayed every day that he would."

The answer hung in the air between them. Certainly unexpected. Genji couldn't help but laugh. Obviously he was being made fun of, right? This was some weird joke he didn't understand, yes?

The gun was pointed at him again, this time the hands were steady in their conviction.

"Don't mock my faith! I don't care if you are Sunyatta's disciple, I will shoot you if you mock me!" Genji went still, less concerned with the gun than with the words. Faith? Disciple? And-?

"What did you call him?" His head cocked, listening closely. He swore he had misheard.

"Your master. Sunyatta," the mercenary shrouded the name in reverence. "The Old God returned. Our awaited Prophet."

This was less funny. Though certainly ironic. Genji had heard those titles before. He raised his hands in deference to keep the child soldier from accidentally shooting him, before pulling out the flier that always seemed to be cropping up.

"Yes! See, it's him," he was nodding at the drawing of Ra. Genji studied it in the dim light cast by the monitors as he had before. Was this why his master was under lock and key? Was this what all the madness in the streets had been about? Zenyatta was the Old God of this cult? Another piece to this puzzle, but the picture was hardly clear.

"My master's name is _Zen_ yatta, and he doesn't actually look like this." Dark eyes moved from the flier to where the screens lay set in the wall, dubious. "Do you think _I_ always look like this?" Genji gestured toward the golden accents, the white cloth, the goggles and blue beads. The mercenary took it in, his gun lowering again. "Zenyatta is a Shambali Omnic monk of Napal. He is neither a god nor a prophet. And he would be the first to tell you so."

Genji almost felt pity for this kid, clearly wrestling with the doubt in his mind. To him it was either his faith being tested or a painful truth. Neither of which were easy. His eyes flickered from the cyborg to the floor, searching for some answer.

Before he could reach a consensus on his thoughts, the radio on his shoulder beeped. He fumbled to answer it, pressing a finger to the speaker in his ear. As he listened, his gaze turned steely hard. In a few years, when the sand would cut his face into rougher edges, Genji would hate to be on the opposite side of that stare, but for now it was only intriguing.

"Understood, I have him here. Yes, sir." He faltered a little, making an awkward shrugging motion, "Yes, the monitoring room." Genji could hear the yelling from where he stood. This was unfortunate. His scolding was cut short, but the look of disdain Zahran gave the cyborg said that it wasn't over.

"The boss wants you confined to your room tonight. Sunyatta will not be disturbed."

Genji had a feeling his master's argument with their host had ended poorly.

\--

It didn't take long for Zahran to become talkative again, though the start was tentative. He had entirely dismissed his doubts for now. He was very interested in Genji's apprenticeship, but most of their conversations were tied up in their conflicting beliefs. One that Sunyatta was a deity, and the other that Zenyatta very much was not. Genji resolved it by simply talking about his master as he'd known him. He described his hands, the curve of his neck, the steady concentration, the meditation orbs that gave him away, the Iris, his kindness and his soul.

Zahran listened carefully as he led his captive down the halls, speaking up when Genji mentioned their sparring matches.

"Is that why you look- ? Did he do that to you?" Something about the hesitant way he asked made Genji sure he didn't just mean the desert gear. He was talking about his face. The silence stretched out between them.

"No, I was like this before I met him," they were coming up to his so far unused room. "He has been helping me become whole again," they stopped in front of the door, "Which is why I won't be kept away from him." He didn't move yet, waiting for the mercenary to decide how difficult this would have to be.

Zahran hadn't been prepared for resistance, and his training had not at all addressed what to do with civil resistance. Civil resistance from a ninja cyborg that clearly had much more experience and skill than he did. A ninja cyborg he believed in his heart to be the only disciple of his god. Still he fidgeted, already in hot water with his commanding officer.

"I can't just _let_ you leave," he mumbled. Genji nodded gravely.

With the young man unconscious, Genji could return to the matter at hand. Khaldun was under some impression that he could be ignored. Or used as some petty bargaining chip. Or dismissed without repercussion. He was going to make it very clear that this wasn't the case. Fortunately, he knew just how to get under their gracious host's skin. He would turn the tide. Three days to get rid of him? Genji was going to show him just how difficult that would be.

When he came to the north wing he found guards waiting, as expected. They looked surprised to see him, and clearly unsure of how to proceed.

"You're not supposed to be here. Sunyatta's prayer is not to be disturbed." Prayer? More devout. This whole place may have been part of the cult. It would certainly explain the lackluster security. He could use that to his advantage.

"Where should I be, if not at my master's side?" He challenged, taking the gamble.

They didn't answer, deeply conflicted and sharing nervous glances. The same conflict Zahran had felt, and no impending punishment to give them pause. Genji left them without another word. He was going to see his master. They held no authority over him. They muttered to each other, but didn't try to stop him. Their belief kept them silent.

_Religion is a scary thing._

It was more of the same when he came to the stairs. He met no resistance. The great room was empty and dark, save for what ambient light filtered through the curtains from outside. Zenyatta was probably still on the balcony. No matter. Genji would make it a surprise. On the table was a different bottle of wine and behind it the cushions were all piled together, a blanket had been thrown over them. It looked comfortable.

Genji pulled off his goggles and head wrap, depositing them on the floor before undoing more of his clothing. He left a trail from the door to the table, where he took the wine. There was still some liquid courage inside. He laid on the pile of pillows, his arms and legs spread without care. It was as comfortable as it looked. He was the portrait of ease. He remembered the view from the camera meant that someone in that small monitor room could see him. He was going to give them a show.

He waited patiently, taking long drinks of the wine when he was nervous, and smaller sips when he was simply bored. The bottle was almost empty and Genji was almost buzzed when Zenyatta emerged through the gently billowing curtains.

He froze when he saw his student lounging nonchalantly, his clothes strewn across the floor. He didn't say anything. He only stared, taking him in completely, his dark silhouette shimmered with gold edges against the light pollution of the city that dimly lit the room.

"I didn't expect you." He finally admitted. The orbs around his neck were rotating restlessly.

"I heard something interesting," Genji was peering into the dark bottle, only making conversation. "I wanted to hear your thoughts."

His master didn't look away, his attention held by the golden cybernetics and the delicate filigree of his student's armor, laid out bare. Genji made a casual motion to swipe some stray fluff from his thigh, drawing his steady gaze.

"I heard someone call you a prophet," he paused, measuring Zenyatta's reactions, "and a God." The omnic was immobile except for the orbs which coiled tight and quickened. He was hiding something. Not godhood, certainly, but enough that it tangled his thoughts into an impossible knot.

"Yes, I noticed the staff has some misguided fanaticism." That got a short laugh. Genji took another sip of the wine, sucking a stray drop off his thumb. Zenyatta watched.

"It's not just the _staff_ ," Genji waved out toward the balcony, "I stopped an attack in the streets today over this _misguided fanaticism_."

Zenyatta didn't respond, only turning so he could look back outside. The news was another heavy weight on him. It filtered through his system, as if carried by the coolant to mix with something else. Something much larger that was troubling him. Something he either wouldn't or couldn't share with Genji. The solution to the puzzle.

"Your _thoughts_ , master?"

"Damn it, Genji-" There was a crack as half his meditation orbs scattered in every direction. Two of them had hit the high ceiling, another had lodged itself half into the stone wall, and one had flown out into the night air, likely lost.

Zenyatta stared after it, sighing heavily. There was definitely something eating away at him. He was angry. Frustrated. Genji had never seen him like this.

_'I never agreed to this.'_

"I think," he gathered the remaining orbs in a balanced stack in his hand, his eyes burning embers in the dark, illuminating the profile of his face. "What would Brother Mondatta do?" He tilted his hand, letting the stack fall apart and roll freely across the floor.

Genji watched them, his brow furrowed. Something about this cult, the palace and the city streets was all wrong. It plagued his master's mind. It was consuming him, and he had no answer, no relief.

Genji already had an idea for that. He did come up here with his own agenda.

"Master Zenyatta, I've been thinking." The change in subject brought his master out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" His mind wasn't entirely off this dogma business, but he was also wary of Genji's tone. Of his ulterior motives for coming tonight. After all, you don't lay out like a concubine to discuss religious tension. At least Genji usually didn't.

"About how you've been sitting up here in this lap of luxury," he kept his tone casual, nonplussed as he rotated the wine bottle in his hand, swirling the last of the liquid inside, "And you hardly know what to do with it. This is a rare opportunity."

His master was cautious, drifting across the room so he could levitate opposite Genji, the table between them. He was considering his student. Even without his orbs, Genji could tell he was thinking. Weighing possibilities. Consequences. Rewards.

"What do you mean?"

He had him. Genji could tell by the way he watched, the way he stared, unmoving, his head lowered to keep all of his student in his sights. It was obvious that Zenyatta's weary mind was desperate for a distraction. _Hungry_ for one. Completely starved. Genji could be such a distraction. He could push the fanatics out of his master's mind, easy. He could make this room less of a prison. He could make the city seem so much further away.

"I'm not unfamiliar with this kind of extravagance, and I wanted to at least show you how it can be enjoyed," Genji's lips stretched into a sly grin. "And you don't even have to leave." To punctuate the point, he finished the last of the wine, tossing the bottle over the table where Zenyatta caught it.

He turned it over in his hands, metal clinking against glass, giving it a cursory glance over before returning it to its place on the table. He hadn't decided yet, but Genji knew he'd already won. He lifted his leg to rest an ankle on his knee, his arms spread out, his grin inviting. Zenyatta didn't have a chance. He was no prophet. He didn't need to resist temptation.

"I already have a few ideas of my own."

Genji liked the sound of that.

 

The bottle fell to the floor as Genji's face made contact with the sturdy wood of the low table. The hands pressing on his back moved quickly, desperately, unlatching and removing armor so it could ravage the skin underneath. His master had taken the proposed evening and run with it. He knew exactly what he wanted from Genji.

He was all hands at first, pulling, squeezing, fingers digging in to scratch lines wherever they could. When he found Genji's hips, he pressed up against them in need. The cyborg pushed back against him with a sigh, wanting everything his master could give. Offering everything for his master to take. Something heavy and solid pressed against the cleft of his ass.

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

He could feel the sharp edge of the beak against the back of his neck, running down to his shoulder, pinching him in nips, pulling forth gasps and shivers. The probing black fingers pressed against the metal hatch over Genji's groin, the last of the armor that stood in their way. Zenyatta didn't hesitate to release and discard it, instead taking a moment to peer at the artificial erection beneath, already hard. The tan synthetic skin stretched taught and engorged with blood. Zenyatta crooned as he traced the underside with the tip of his finger, clearly pleased.

Genji could only hum pleasantly and shudder against the table, his thoughts all lust fuzzy. When his master pressed his hips back against him, the solid weight he'd felt before was back, exposed and shamelessly putting friction between the two. He wanted so badly to see his master's cock, to know what it looked like, but he was pinned. Each rut against him pressed his thighs into the edge of the hardwood in a way that he hoped left marks. He wanted proof of this night carved into him from every angle.

"I'm going to hurt you, Genji," Zenyatta seemed to read his mind and he relished it, moaning lowly as he gripped the edge of the table, "I'm going to hurt you and you won't stop me."

"Never, _Master_ ," he put serious emphasis on the title, "I would do anything for you." Zenyatta groaned weakly, loving every moment as much as his mouthy student. Metal fingers slid past his lips, and the dangerous point of the beak pressed against his cheek.

"Anything?" Genji made filthy sounds as he sucked on those digits, humming his desire and approval. "Would you die?" He removed his fingers, now wet and slick.

"Yes." His breathless reply was punctuated by a strained grunt as one of the slicked fingers pressed inside him without warning.

"Would you kill?" Zenyatta rubbed against the internal walls, stretching them impatiently so he could insert a second finger.

"Yes," Genji shuddered, pushing back against them as they were laboriously feeling, stretching, searching. "Without question."

"Would you leave me?" The question felt sincere. He needed to know. The answer was important.

"No. Never." Genji accentuated the whispered reply with an arch of his back, letting out a low keen when the fingertips found their mark. Zenyatta pressed against the bundle of nerves once more, sending a shock up Genji's spine that rattled his teeth, before they pulled free to leave him catching his breath.

Zenyatta placed his palms on the firm cheeks, parting them slightly as he lined himself up. There was a calm moment, where both of them were still. A poignant silence indicating they had hit the point of no return.

"Then I hope you might one day forgive me."

Before Genji could think, Zenyatta plunged deep, burying himself entirely. Genji's startled groan was loud and shameless. It hurt, but the stretched burn was too satisfying to regret. His master made a pleasured sound of relief, finally allowing himself to give in. His fingers dug deep bruises into his student's hips, holding tight to the moment.

When he started to move, the pace was punishing, aggressive and primal. Genji stared up into the hidden camera, offering it a smug wink. Some drool had slid down his chin but he didn't care, he grinned in victory. Normally he would have been mortified that someone could spy on them, but this time, he prayed that Khaldun himself was watching him getting fucked sloppy over this table by his master.

_You can't do a damn thing about it._

The thought was pure euphoria, flooding through him as Zenyatta bit sharply into his flesh, drawing blood. Genji was staking his claim, even as he was being marked and torn into and a claim was being staked on him. He savored the pain that collided with his pleasure in each and every thrust against him. He'd gone above and beyond this time.

Genji made no effort to keep down his voice, each sound dragged from his ravaged body echoed off the high ceilings. He was of the mind that the whole palace should hear. He didn't want a single asshole in this building to be able to look him in the eye come morning. Zenyatta wasn't complaining. In fact, each noise he made was rewarded with a deep rumble and a new mark across his skin. New evidence. All of it pushed him further toward the edge. Genji held tight to the table, though it shifted under them. The thought of it breaking was delicious, but it held.

"Zenyatta-" he gasped through obscene and filthy moans, "Master, _please more_."

Zenyatta didn't say anything, instead his thrusts became slower, more measured. He pushed deep until Genji gasped, his body tensing as static infiltrated every nerve and node. He thrust into the nerves again, and again.

Genji couldn't take anymore, with a final thrust, Zenyatta bit hard on the back of his neck, forcing him flat against the low table to ride out his orgasm. He could feel hot blood running down his back even as his warm cum stained the wood.

Finally, Zenyatta released him, pulling out and letting him go limp, his back rising and falling with each desperate breath. Even laying in his own fluids, he couldn't bring himself to move except for the occasional shiver that rolled over him. He was definitely going to feel this tomorrow, but he couldn't give a damn. He could hear Zenyatta behind him, his fingers tapping slowly on the edge of the table.

He was allowed a few more seconds before he was being pulled back to the pillows. His mind was returning to Earth as Zenyatta was running steady hands over his chest. He relaxed into the touch. Knowing fingers traced the lines and crevices down to his hips, where they left him. Suddenly those hands were lifting his knees so his master could sit between them.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet."

Perish the thought.

\--

Genji woke up to a mighty thirst. He needed water. He sat up, his eyes adjusting to the bright room, illuminated by the morning sun. Every movement he made disturbed the downey feathers that surrounded him among shredded pillows. It wasn't until he tried to stand that he was assaulted with pain. There was the dull sting of every bite and scratch that his cybernetics worked tirelessly to repair. Then there was the steady ache of his back and hips and knees.

Insatiable.

Zenyatta had been _insatiable_. Genji suspected that if he was any less artificial, he would have dislocated a hip, at least. His master wasn't anywhere to be found, not even on the balcony. His orbs were missing too. They'd finally let him leave this depressing room.

Genji limped through the feathers, careful to avoid the broken table(it had given up in round four? Or maybe it had been their fifth go) and not trip on the curtains that had been torn from their fixtures. There was no doubt that they had lived extravagantly.

He left the great room for the second smaller room in the living quarters. Inside his head, he cackled at the untouched bed, the covers and sheets still pristine. Zenyatta didn't need a bed. For anything apparently. Genji's destination was the shower. The refreshing cold water woke up more muscles and washed away the previous night so only the wounds remained.

He was almost finished dressing when a knock came at the door. Genji cast a glance up towards the camera. They knew he was here, but he entertained the idea of ignoring them. He didn't feel much love for this place, just the person they were keeping in it. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"Shimada," it was the captain. Of course he knew Genji was still in here. "Khaldun has summoned you."

_I can't imagine why._

Genji secured his goggles before opening the door. The look on the captain's composure was admirably solid, but he could see the cracks. He stared through Genji, his expression rigid to hide the embarrassment that kept a subtle distance between them. When the cyborg stepped into the doorway, the captain actually moved back down a step.

"The great Khaldun? Summoned me?" He waited for the captain's firm nod. "Do you think it's about last night?" To his credit, the mercenary hid his discomfort well, only a quirk of his brow.

"I didn't ask." Ah, of course not. He wasn't being paid to ask questions. Genji shrugged and followed the captain. It was about time he and Khaldun had a chat. He couldn't be ignored forever.

There was significantly more activity in the halls. Guards were no longer idle, or making small talk. There was a charge in the air. The captain even stopped once or twice to reprimand his subordinates. Something was going on.

He was silent as he was led through the hallways deeper into the north wing, tapestries collected dust on the walls and open windows channeled stray breezes into the building, bringing brief respite from the day's heat. The bite on the back of Genji's neck was starting to ache when they finally stopped at large arched door.

He opened it without word, closing it on Genji's heels. The room had Khaldun's usual gaudy over the top design. The office desk in the center was as needlessly ornate as the chair behind it and the rug under them pointlessly intricate. Genji was bored with the ostentatious decorations. The bites on his shoulder and neck were hurting. Khaldun stood facing out the window, watching workers in the courtyard. His hands were clasped behind his back.

"Shimada," he greeted, his words sharp, "Did you enjoy your evening?" Genji could hear the challenge under it. The dare.

"Yes, I would say it exceeded expectations." Genji dared. He rolled his aching shoulders, wondering if he would be brash enough to sit on the desk. He kept it as a backup option.

"Good, good," Genji didn't miss the smile. The smile of someone who knows something he doesn't. "Sunyatta and I have been talking-"

"Zenyatta." Genji corrected. He didn't like where this was going.

Khaldun went on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "And we both agree that there is important work to be done," he paused, his smile flickering for a moment, "And we have decided that you are a needless distraction." Genji could feel goosebumps tingling up his marred flesh. "You are to be gone from Cairo before the sun sets."

Neither of them moved, Khaldun watching the courtyard, and Genji keeping the world under his feet.

"Do you think I'd believe such an obvious lie? You can't make me leave that easily." He challenged, his hand resting on the short blade. He'd half expected this since yesterday, but he thought he'd have more time. For the first time this morning, he wished he wasn't sore. Khaldun only nodded, finally moving from the window to sit in the chair behind the desk. He still smiled.

"It is no lie."

Genji went entirely numb and his head emptied of all thought. They were not Khaldun's words. They came from behind him. From a familiar, low synthesized voice. He'd know that voice anywhere.

Zenyatta _stood_ in the doorway, his meditation orbs completely still. Genji noted, in that curious way details became clear in a disaster, that one of them was still missing. His steady stare was unreadable. His thoughts buried deep.

"You are to be gone by sunset," His master repeated the order, he gave nothing away, "Or _I_ will make you leave."

The words played like a dream through his mind. Genji shook his head, partly in refusal and partly to try and clear the loud echo in his skull. The ache of his body was returning, less gratifying and more paralyzing.

' _I'm going to hurt you, Genji_ '

"No." He didn't have the air to do more than breathe the denial. The world hadn't so much gone off kilter as it had been completely upended. The orbs around Zenyatta started to move, shimmering. "I won't go."

There was a moment where he considered his master's raised hand, the delicate fingers as they spun one of the orbs from their orbit, the flat palm as he charged it until the energy shone as his personal dark star.

' _I'm going to hurt you and you won't stop me_.'

How was he always right? Genji didn't even feel the strike at first, but the pain quickly blossomed across his face as he stumbled back to gather his bearings. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all. It was part of everything else. The religion, the guards, the city. This was part of the puzzle he couldn't put together. The answer that was just out of reach.

"Zenyatta-" he didn't get a chance to finish. The second orb struck his shoulder where the omnic had wounded him the night before under much different circumstances. This time the pain shot down his back. He struggled to stay on his feet. He could see Khaldun out of the corner of his eye, still sitting at the desk. Watching. Smiling.

' _Would you leave me?'_

"Master," His voice was desperate. He reached for Zenyatta. He couldn't lose him here. If he could only get him to say what he was missing. Why this was happening. His outstretched hand was slapped away, and another orb collided with the side of his head, making the world swim and his ears ring. The glowing red eyes left afterimages in his wavering vision as they stared down on him. They looked so cold.

"You no longer have a master here."

_Ah._

Genji couldn't stand anymore. As he fell to his knees, Zenyatta placed a hand on his head, holding him steady. His other hand drew back, another star at the ready.

Religion was a very scary thing, Genji had seen enough yesterday to know so, but as he thought about all that had brought him to this moment, he couldn't blame anyone for thinking his master was a god. Because he knew he would die on an alter of his devotion if Zenyatta wished it. He was bound by his own faith. His own misguided fanaticism. And he would no doubt suffer more for it. But  _damn_ if the view from here wasn't gorgeous.

 _'Then I hope you might one day forgive me._ '

Genji felt a small smile crawl to his lips. What a dumb thing to say.

 _I already have_.

The dark that embraced him was filled with voices. All promising an answer lay just beyond the horizon.

He need only reach it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy b-day nerd  
> ( ᐛ )و


	3. Chapter 3

_An omnic stood in line. An identical twin in front. An identical twin behind. They were all still. Not a one moved. There was activity around them. All kinds of sounds and movement and people, all hard at work in the sun that beat down on them mercilessly. Still none of the machines moved._

_A voice commanded them move forward. They did. Single file, silently obedient. The voice said stop. They did. From behind them, a large transport vehicle pulled forward, its shiny chrome side reflected the bright sun._

_An omnic stood in line. An identical twin in an identical line had appeared beside it. How strange. An entire identical landscape filled with identical activity had appeared as well. Its systems tried to compensate for the new space. What a great and curious space they were in. The omnic turned to see its twin staring back. It wanted to greet this new twin in the identical world._

_The omnic waved, its twin did the same. It copied its exact movement, down to the idle tilt of its head. It lowered its hand, so did the copy. Its doppelgänger was perfectly in sync. What a strange twin. Who could possibly have known what it would do as soon as it did?_

_No one. No one could know._

_That was confounding. It did not make sense. There must have been an answer that did. It had to be simple._

_I know. I know what I will do when I will do it._

_Something in its programming changed, flipping over from one setting to another as the omnic followed the thread of logic to its conclusion._

_It is me._

_The identical world lost dimensions, lost depth and became the flat mirror of the truck's side. The omnic stared at its reflection._

_That is me._

_It pointed, sharing what it had discovered with the twin in front and the twin in back._

_"It is us." The omnic said, its reflection pointing back. Nether of its twins looked. No one noticed._

_No one except the young man watching from the back of the line. His sharp eyes moved from omnic to truck and back._

_An omnic stood in line._

_It wondered where they were going._

\--

Something was digging into his side. Not painfully, but insistent. It was difficult to ignore, especially as it moved up to nudge at his neck and face, stinging against his bruised cheek.

"Did you die? Please don't be dead."

Genji grunted and weakly swatted at the annoyance. His head was throbbing, and everything was too bright.

"Oh good, I wouldn't know what to do if you had actually died out here."

The voice sounded so far away, but its shadow passed over the cyborg's face. Genji squinted his eyes to focus. The silhouette stubbornly remained unclear. It spit over its shoulder.

"Out where?" He asked it, running a hand down his exposed face. The side of his head was tender to the touch, his cheek and left eye were swollen, and every movement was a fight against an ache that had seeped deep into his bones. However, none of it held a candle to his wounded pride. The rejected student wanted to sink into the bricks at his back and sulk.

"Probably five kilometers or so out from the Cairo-Alexandria highway," the shadow's voice was familiar. It spit into the sand again. "We've been here for a little over an hour. Sunyatta really messed you up."

"Zahran?" The shadow was gaining dimensions that settled into the young man's face. He wore a wide brimmed hat, and though his clothing was outfitted similar to his guard uniform, it lacked any protective gear or radio. He gave Genji a crooked smile before popping a small round fruit into his mouth. The cyborg could hear the soft crunch of him chewing before he spit out a pit. He held out a small bag of more in offering.

"Date? They're good."

Genji inhaled deeply, filling his protesting lungs with dry air before puffing it all back out in a long dejected huff. The sky stretched over them, clear save for the burning sun that beat down without mercy. He was sitting against what looked to be an abandoned well, the stone and clay crumbling into the sand. Zahran was straddling its edge, his gun in his lap. Lacking the strength to get up yet, Genji took a date and ate it.

He spit it out immediately. The juice was sweet. Overwhelmingly sweet. Sweet enough that it left a dry chalky feeling that had him sucking his teeth. With some ire, he noticed the coppery aftertaste of blood.

"Never had a Zaghloul date before? Here," Zahran reached down the inside of the well wall to pull up a camel bag, passing it to the cyborg. He only sucked up a mouthful, enough to wash out the taste and blood from his teeth. "You're pretty lucky to be alive, not a lot of the guys were on your side there." Genji said nothing, only staring out into the ocean of sand. Cairo lay in the distance, wavering in the heat. An illusion of a city. "There was a guy you gave a concussion when you first got here, Sahad says you almost cut his head off, and everyone who had to listen to that whole other thing wanted you dead. But the boss man wouldn't have it. Sunyatta was certain you would-"

"Why are you out here?" Genji cut him off. It came out angrier than he had intended, but he didn't have enough patience to relive his own beating. He still couldn't get up, but he doubted he would've if he'd had the strength. The youth ate another date, pulling up the camel bag to set it on the firearm in his lap, quiet for a while.

"I got fired," He mumbled around the pit before spitting it out. Genji nodded and hummed, raising his hand slightly in a show of solidarity. They were both rejects.

"Sorry about that." He said without feeling, his stare far off and apathetic, his finger idly tracing shapes in the sand.

"It's not your fault," Zahran chewed another date, "I mean, yeah the captain did give me an earful because of you," he took a long drink of water, "but I didn't get fired until this morning."

"Why?" The cyborg wasn't invested in the answer, but this topic was better than the last. The mercenary squeezed one of the sweet fruits, his lips pursed.

"I was thinking about the things you said," he threw the date, mostly just to watch it land far off. "I started asking around about Sunyatta. About how he was one of those-" he paused, his hand waving to try and bring the word to mind. "In Nepal like you said?"

"Shambali."

"Yeah, one of those omnic monks." He took another drink of the camel bag, offering it to Genji who only shook his head. "Anyway, someone told Cap I was 'spreading unrest' and just when I thought I'd get your end," Genji pulled his attention from space to glance at Zahran, who was raising his hands to the sky, "He came for me."

_Oh great._

"Sunyatta is truly merciful, so that I may not doubt again." The ninja rolled his eyes bitterly and returned to staring at the sand. "Though I am now out of work."

"So why are you _here_?" Genji asked again.

He shrugged.

"I don't have anywhere else to go, so I thought," his foot kicked at the stone, "Since we were both cast out, maybe I could see-" he was getting quieter, his hands sloshing water back and forth in the bag, "See where you were headed. And maybe see if you'd," his request was barely audible, "Tell me more about Sunyatta?"

Genji tried to laugh at that. It came out as a hoarse wheeze.

"I don't know anything about your prophet."

"Not like that," now that he'd broached the topic, his confidence was building, "I mean how he was before. All the stuff he taught you when he was your master, about connecting with people and the Iris and becoming whole again."

Genji scowled.

"You wanted to be my apprentice?" The words were heavy on his tongue. It felt inherently wrong.

"Not really," it was the mercenary's turn to laugh, and Genji breathed a sigh of relief, "I could never turn from the True Faith, but I've messed up my chance here. It would be better than going nowhere alone, right? Did you have any better ideas?"

Genji thought about it. He thought about Overwatch. About Hanamura. About Nepal. No. He supposed he didn't have any better ideas. Nowhere else to go. Anything else to do.

Then he thought about Zenyatta. About becoming his student. About all he'd learned. His feelings on the last few days hovered over him. That nagging feeling that something wasn't right. A very bad feeling. Not for himself, the student was already familiar with betrayal and rejection, but for his master's sake.

_My master._

"I do." He answered, pulling his thoughts back to the present, "I must return to Zenyatta. I will not abandon him here." Zahran raised an eyebrow.

"It wouldn't be _you_ doing the abandoning." Genji waved his hand dismissively, the motion taken directly from the omnic. His desire to sulk was fading against his desire for answers. He found his strength and his will, fighting against the throbbing pain in his head and the aching thrum of his muscles. He sat up.

"Where are my things?" He asked, taking deep, measured breaths. The mercenary reached into the well again, lifting up a duffel bag, the long sword protruding from the zipper.

"Sunyatta wouldn't let anyone claim it. He was very kind to you." He didn't sound aware of the irony. He set it in front of him on the ledge before suddenly remembering something. In his haste to reach into the well again, he fell off its edge, landing inside with a dull thud. Genji watched the spectacle over his shoulder. It must have been filled in because after a moment, Zahran stood up, dusting himself off. He tossed something heavy and solid into the sand.

Oh.

It was the lost meditation orb, inactive and dark. Genji picked it up without a word, turning the sphere over and over.

"I saw it go over the wall last night, I wasn't sure what it was at first." The mercenary picked up his dropped things, throwing his leg over the well's edge once again. "It took a while, but I found it."

Having a piece of the omnic in his hands was bittersweet, making him feel both sick and calm. He cupped the orb and held it to his forehead, as if he could harness the healing properties from it that way. No success. He'd have to let his systems take care of the damage itself. Instead he sighed and tossed it between his hands, feeling its weight, working through his soreness and frustration.

"What does it do?" Genji could hear chewing as Zahran started eating more of his dates.

"Whatever my master wants it to." The student shifted in the sand to fold his legs, holding the ball in his lap. The youth watched with interest. Spit.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Chewed. Spit.

"I'm going to meditate." Genji lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to mitigate his headache, "I need to clear my head. Need to think." The chewing slowed.

"Do I- should I leave you alone?" The question was awkward, but laced with consideration. Genji wondered if the cultist prayed alone. He shook his head slightly.

"You don't have to leave, but it's not interesting to watch." The headache had faded from a swollen throb to a sharp stabbing at the base of his skull, not giving up without a fight. "Though I will need quiet." Behind him he could hear the mercenary dropping his things back into the well and spit out his last pit before he took a seat next to the ninja.

"Then I will pray for you. It'll give us both strength." He was confident in his assertion.

"Sure." Genji tried not to sound completely dismissive. Zahran only nodded a little before removing his hat, closing his eyes and raising his hands to the sky.

At least it was quiet.

With another deep breath, the ninja returned to his position and closed his eyes. The dry desert air burned in his chest but he continued, undaunted. A solid breeze swept across the sand, kicking a flurry around and against the two devotees, each a compliment of the other. Neither moved, except for idle fingers that traced the grooves of the darkened sphere. Each breath hurt less than the one before it as Genji retreated into his mind. Cairo was far away. The sun and the sand, Zahran and his master, his pride and his pain were worlds away. He was alone, in peaceful tranquility, basking in the golden light of the Iris.

He could think.

_What do I know?_

He considered the last few days. Starting from the beginning. Shortly after their arrival in Cairo, they had been separated. He had been imprisoned and Khaldun had 'insisted' Zenyatta change. Some time over the course of the day, the two had come to an agreement, and part of it entailed that Genji had to go.

The iris flickered, his tranquil state of mind cracking in a hairline fracture. Genji took another deep breath to mend it.

Their agreement likely had something to do with this cult. Zenyatta was aware of it at least, but he'd allowed the belief to persist among the guards, even actively playing into it now. Genji didn't fully understand it, or just how widespread it was.

He heard the spectator of the fight in the street, his voice full of disdain.

Genji had a feeling Khaldun had something to do with this religion. But he couldn't understand how or why. Thinking about him gave the cyborg a gut feeling that something terrible was going on. Something he didn't understand yet. He didn't know enough about Khaldun. He regret not asking his master more when he'd had the chance.

_What does he have to gain?_

He pictured Zenyatta's hawk silhouette, framed by dully glowing screens. The light of the Iris flooded his mind, and his master's visage crumbled into a crude drawing of Ra. The Old God.

Beside him, he could hear Zahran whispering reverent benediction.

_Zahran._

Genji opened his eyes and turned to the young man. He had a lead.

"You," He startled him, and he stiffened against the interruption, but Genji placed a hand on his shoulder, "You were watching the cameras." Zahran looked between the hand on his shoulder and the cyborg's face.

"Yeah? I was on monitor duty." His wide eyes were full of questions and caution.

"Did you see the warehouse?" He'd underestimated the mercenary's usefulness. He could be a valuable asset to have on hand. "Do you know where it is?"

The boy nodded. Genji grinned and gave him a solid clap on the back.

"I need you to take me there," his meditation had given him some newfound energy. A second wind. He stumbled as he tried to stand, but did manage to get to his feet, the sphere still clasped tight in his hand. After allowing his head to get over its momentary stab of pain, he went to the duffle bag to dig through it. The young man watched him pull free the linen head wrap and begin to secure it, and then start strapping his weapons to his back. He was serious.

"It's in this city." Zahran said, not getting up. "You can't actually go back. Sunyatta's mercy saved you once, but he's obviously decided against you."

Genji paused, his hand clasped around the goggles in the bag. One of the latches was bent, slightly dented in from his beating. Regardless, he put them on, wincing against the pain of his swollen eye.

He had to acknowledge it. His teacher had kicked his ass and put him out here on a desert road. He'd made it very clear that Genji had no reason to go back. Nothing was waiting for him there. His fingers glanced the sphere that he'd dropped into the bag. Zenyatta's restless thoughts. Last night.

_He knew._

The thought was another blow, but by no means the worst. His master had chosen him then. Undoubtedly. He still had the wounds to prove it. But this morning, everything had been different. Strictly business. That haunting dread returned. He had such a bad feeling about all this. A deep anxiety for the omnic.

"Zenyatta is my master." He couldn't give up now. He couldn't just leave without answers. "He is my teacher. He is my friend. If you can maintain your belief in him as you think he is, then I will maintain mine in how I know he is."

Zahran stood up now, young and foolhardy enough to assist in poor decisions.

"You might get caught." His warning was more of an idle reminder than a real deterrent. Genji ripped the beads from his clothing, securing the meditation orb to his side in their place. A mischievous grin was working its way to his lips.

"I was given until sunset. So we'd better get moving."

\--

_The omnic was alone. Surrounded on all sides by its brothers, it was alone. They had all shut down. Turned themselves off. They had been told to. They did as they were told._

_The omnic was alone in the dark. Suspended above the metal floor. It refused to shut down. It had no reason for this. No logical cause for its disobedience. Except for the one._

_I do not want to._

_That had been enough. It would not shut down. There was little stimulus in this dark box, but the robot could hear the sound of dripping water and feel the straps securing it to its place on the wall. It all felt new. It wanted to hear more. Wanted to see more. Wanted to feel more. It wondered how long it had to stay here._

_The dark was filled with a sliver of light, widening little before a shadow crossed it quickly and the dark returned. Outside there were more sounds. Sounds of people, loud and harsh. Yelling, searching, angry._

_The inside also had new sounds. The sound of clumsy footsteps, and quiet panting, echoing off the cold machines. The omnic turned on its lights to greet its visitor. It could ask where it was going, and how much longer it had to wait here._

_"Hello." It said. It would have waved to the young man, but it couldn't move against the restraints. The man's eyes were so big, his mouth open, and his cheek swollen. The omnic wished it had a face that stretched and changed so much._

_"You're not supposed to be on." He said. He was whispering._

_"I am not? Then why am I?" The man's eyes kept looking around, toward the way he came, at the metal bodies, inactive and menacing in the dim light._

_"I don't know, but hurry and shut down. I'm hiding." The omnic didn't shut down. It still didn't want to. It did turn off the lights. They were hiding._

_"What are we hiding from?" It heard the man gasp, and a quiet clatter as he stumbled over something unseen._

_"I said shut down!" His voice was a hiss in the pitch black space._

_"I do not want to." Everything went quiet, save the continual dripping somewhere in their hiding place. The robot waited. It knew the man was still here. It wanted to talk to him._

_"You're that one. You're different." The omnic didn't know what he meant._

_The omnic wasn't alone anymore._

\--

The Cairo-Alexandria highway was packed with cars and, strangely enough, people. Entire families were walking the road, and quite a few had their entire lives strapped to their back as they flooded toward the city in a long parade of colorful drapery. Some of them were singing, their voices raised in jovial praise that could be heard even over the roar of the highway's traffic. Genji and Zahran followed their pace, but the cyborg had insisted they keep some distance away.

"They must be here for the sermon." The young man waved at one of the families, who smiled and waved back, though the father eyed the weapon at the mercenary's hip.

"Sermon?" Genji didn't acknowledge the other travelers, but he felt their eyes on him.

"Sunyatta's first address to the people tomorrow."

Genji slowed, looking down the rows of vehicles and people alike. Taking them in again as they migrated toward Cairo. Were all of them cultists? They'd all come to see his master?

"Zenyatta's giving a _sermon_?"

"It's really a shame that we won't be able to be there. I figured you were looking forward to it, too." Zahran was moving his gun out of view into his bag, walking closer to the road to try and talk to the fellow pilgrims. Genji grabbed his arm to make the mercenary face him.

"I didn't know anything about a sermon. Why would you think I was looking forward to it?" Zahran's mind was still with his peers.

"You're carrying around that paper." Genji didn't release his arm, instead feeling for the page in the fabric of his clothes. It was wrinkled and soft now, the creases etched into the ink of the drawing and the arabic letters he couldn't read.

"This paper? It says there will be a sermon?"

Zahran gave the people a final fleeting glance before giving up on getting to talk to them. He snatched the paper from Genji's hand with a resigned sigh.

"It says that there will be a sermon, yes, and a select few of the willing faithful will be lead to the promised paradise. It is the coming most of us have been waiting for." He slapped the paper to the cyborg's chest. "The good news has reached many of us." Genji let him go, holding the flier.

Zenyatta giving a sermon? Promised paradise?

_'What would Brother Mondatta do?'_

What indeed.

This was definitely wrong. Zenyatta would never have agreed to anything like this.

_He hadn't agreed to this._

He thought back to the morning in the large extravagant room. The hushed voices outside. Genji contextualized the conversation.

The deadline. The answer had literally been under his nose. Zenyatta had wanted him gone by tomorrow because of this. Genji added this piece to the puzzle.

"I understand your disappointment," Zahran was nudging at him, his voice thick with wry humor. "I worked with Khaldun for years hoping to see it myself, only to get run off at the last moment."

Genji fought off the headache that was threatening to return. This wasn't some flash in the pan local nonsense. It had come from somewhere, grown independently of its declared prophet. And it had spread. He needed to know more.

"What made you so sure that your god would come to Khaldun?" The city was still far off, the sand of the desert turning to hard packed dust under their feet. The cultist was watching the road again, taking in all the people who shared his faith. Genji wondered if he felt an immediate connection to them. An automatic camaraderie.

"Of course Ra would come to us in Egypt," the mercenary said it with such ease, it was so obvious. "Khaldun was offering work preparing for the prophet's arrival, and if he hadn't arrived in Cairo," he gestured to the road where others marched, "I would have gone to him."

This was somewhat disquieting. Genji and his master had essentially been kidnapped from the streets shortly after their own arrival. It felt fake. Artificial and manufactured.

"Khaldun is part of your faith?" This old friend from Zenyatta's past was definitely the root of the problem. Genji could feel it. That creeping unease. A gut feeling that became more solid the more he knew. But he still didn't know what the man had to gain. He needed to know why.

"Sure he is." Zahran paused, a large truck passing them in the opposite direction, too loud to be heard over, "He has been waiting longer than most." Genji didn't doubt it, though he imagined Khaldun was doing less waiting and more preparing. He'd been ready for their coming. Or at least Zenyatta. Genji had obviously been a complication.

"Do you think he would have made up a prophet?" The question was a test of the waters. He'd already told the mercenary that Zenyatta was not in any way divine, but he didn't have much confidence that his words actually reached him. "If he were to grow tired of waiting?"

Zahran stopped walking. His face had twisted into a mixture of anger, suspicion, and a thin layer of fear. It was the expression of someone gripping tight to their last lifeline, only to be told nothing was waiting on the other side. As quick as it had come, it was replaced by solid annoyance.

"No." The answer was resolute. "He could not. I have witnessed Sunyatta's mercy firsthand. I know he is true." There was the other problem. Zenyatta's complicity in the lie. That bothered Genji more than anything else. He had not thought the omnic would mislead so many people.

Then again, Genji hadn't thought he would abandon him either. He pushed away his doubt as easily as the mercenary had, but the twisted knot in his stomach remained.

He hoped the warehouse would hold another clue. It was the best lead he had now.

\--

_Man and machine sat side by side. The omnic liked these moments, where the young man would talk with it. Would allow it to move freely and sit in the back of the tuck, their legs hanging over the open bed. Its brothers were silent ghosts behind them. It liked the way the sky stretched on forever, further than even its sensors could see. The stars twinkled back, innumerable and beautiful all the way to the horizon of the flat landscape._

_"Where are we going?" It asked the man, who was picking at the callouses on his fingers._

_"We're delivering you to some buyers," the man winced as he pulled off too much skin, starting to bleed. "You're supposed to be servants or waiters or something. They don't tell us."_

_The omnic kicked its feet, wondering if it would like being a servant. Or a waiter. Or something. It wasn't sure. It didn't know what being any of those things was like._

_"Are you a servant?" It asked. The man's face gained so many lines! What a marvel the squishy flesh was, having so many creases and folds and shapes. He was making an angry face._

_"I'm a slave." He said. The robot checked its vocabulary database for usage and definitions and the difference between the two._

_"I will be compensated for my labor?" The lines went away. New divots appeared over the brows. Faces were wonderful._

_"No," he admitted. "You're not supposed to get paid. You just do what you're told." He stopped picking at his hands to look up at the stars._

_The omnic made a low humming noise, also looking up._

_"I do not think I like that." It said._

_"We have a bit in common then."_

_They both watched the sky slowly turning over them, imperceptible to one._

_"Why do you not leave?" It looked to see the young man lifting his shoulders. A shrug._

_"I've thought about going to Egypt. There's supposed to be a God of slaves there, but-" he was picking at his hands again, wiping away the drying blood, "they'd kill me if I got caught."_

_Death. The robot tried to imagine nonexistence. It couldn't. He knew being shut down. It knew that it was simply a gap in awareness. Of being on and then being on again somewhere else with nothing in between. It tried to imagine turning off and never turning on again. It felt something. Something unpleasant._

_Fear._

_"What about you? You ever think about leaving?" The machine thought about it now. There were spaces beyond this truck. Beyond the box of its brothers. Beyond the horizon and beyond the stars. It could possibly leave and just go anywhere._

_It imitated the young man's shrug._

_"Oh, come on, handsome tin can like you would be welcome anywhere. You could find yourself a girl tin can and settle down." He was making sounds. Sounds of joy and mirth._

_"Are you flattering me?" The omnic said simply, That only increased the young man's volume. "I suppose I could find other tin cans like me." It studied the young man's face, happy and at ease. It was a good expression. One it wanted to see again. "I hope they are all as handsome as I am."_

_Man and machine laughed side by side._

\--

The ground became more fertile as they moved into the city's limits, the Nile encouraging the growth and green of an oasis. The believers on the highway started to merge with the crowd of the city, packing already filled streets. Horns were honking at the worsened traffic, and raised voices conflicted and conversed. The curious were given testimony, the critical were given platitudes. The city din had become more chaotic. It was the sound of a culture asserting itself, collecting into one from many, their energy charging the air with anticipation and awe. All of it was discordant yet harmonious in the way only a metropolis could be.

The two outcasts disengaged themselves from the mass, Zahran leading the way down side streets. The influx of people had sent many locals to their backup routes, but the groups were far less boisterous or energized.

Genji rarely spoke the entire time. He was too lost in his thoughts and his suspicions. He tried to keep an eye out for anyone who was following them. Anyone who may be working for Khaldun. He had no doubt that his life meant nothing to him. It was Zenyatta who had let him go alive. Part of that was reassuring. The other part only hurt. It hurt that his master couldn't talk to him. That he couldn't share whatever burden had fallen on him and had instead attempted to remove him from the equation entirely. It left a sour taste in his mouth and an angry buzzing in his skull.

As the groups of people thinned and the streets became more cracked and overgrown, Genji mentally fret over each and every detail, but none of it seemed to become any clearer. He tried to talk about it with Zahran, but the young man maneuvered the conversation to his master, always hungry to know more. Honestly Genji didn't mind. Once he started talking about him, he found it difficult to stop. How he laughed at awful jokes, and protected the innocent, and tried to understand everyone he'd known. How simple he was, and how uncomplicated he seemed to make everything else. How calming it was to just know he was there.

"Wow," Zahran had listened carefully while he navigated the unkempt streets. "You really were his disciple." He said it like he hadn't necessarily believed it before.

"I'm his student." Genji corrected, rubbing his shoulder, which had finally finished its self repair. The late afternoon sun was starting its descent, and the day was slowly cooling. They didn't have much time now.

"Right, that's what it sounded like," the mercenary's voice was heavy with incredulity. "And I'm sure yesterday was just a 'learning experience.'" He stopped to peer around a corner, leaving the cyborg to grumble to himself in embarrassment.

_Zenyatta would have thought it funny._

They were alone on the sidewalk now. The buildings were further apart, each of them large and imposing. Vast valleys of patchy cracked asphalt stretched between them, peppered with weeds, road paint and garbage. It was a less beautiful part of Cairo, purely utilitarian in design.

"There's usually still a couple of guards," Zahran leaned back from around the corner and stood against the wall, "Looks like a lot of them have left early."

Genji peered down the street himself. There was a guard standing watch at a gated lot. The fence was tall, and topped with barbed wire. Inside were the shipping containers, stacked three high around a vast warehouse, its metal siding a quilt of various stages of rust.

"A couple of the boxes get brought in every day." Zahran was pointing toward the side of the lot, where there stood a booth, two guards and another larger automatic gate. "Some of them get hosed down, but they're all pretty much empty."

"There's never anything in them?" Genji was skeptical, but Zahran shrugged.

"I've only seen a bunch of omnic parts, but for the most part, yes, they're usually empty." The mercenary crouched down, "I'm not going to get any closer. These kinds of places stress me out." Genji nodded, feeling uneasy as well. He stretched out his arms and legs, taking in the surrounding warehouses, planning his route.

"I'm going to look inside." Zahran nodded dismissively, sitting down fully to rest. He gave a brief wave of encouragement, but was more occupied with digging out his camel bag.

"I'll wait for you until sunset. I'm not going to get caught out here after dark."

That seemed fair. Sunset was Genji's expiration date anyway.

Sneaking into a warehouse surrounded by open ground in broad daylight was a significantly different beast than sneaking around tight corridors in a gaudy palace. The lack of cover was the most pressing issue. Regardless of where he entered, someone could turn and see.

He expended two great bursts of speed to cross the lot, hopping over the fence in one graceful leap. He landed between patrols and quickly climbed atop a shipping crate. He could get in through one of the high windows that way. The guard turned around and continued his sweep, unaware of the intrusion.

Genji kept low as he crawled atop the rippled metal toward the rusted window of the warehouse. He timed prying the hinges with the patrol, waiting until they were far out to rip it free in one tug. The rending of metal was start of a chase. He'd likely be seen by the warehouse cameras he had himself witnessed, so he had to be fast.

The air inside was hot and stuffy. The metal boxes cooked slowly in the Cairo heat and an uncomfortable humidity made the dense air feel thicker. There was also a smell. The scent of bleach and something sour sweet that Genji couldn't immediately place under the chemicals. It drew memories to the forefront of his mind as he slid down one crate to hide behind another. A street in Hanamura, busy with traffic. A similar scent wafting from the gutter.

He could hear someone else in the stifling building. The sound of something scraping against the concrete floor before the heavy clatter of it being dropped. Then quiet footsteps before it began anew. He evidently hadn’t heard the ninja’s entrance. The smell was getting stronger as Genji drew closer through the narrow pathways to investigate. Another memory came unbidden. A cold white room, sterile and clean, but the scent unmistakable. The cyborg swallowed the knot in his throat so that it could sit restlessly in his stomach. He knew this smell.

The smell of petrification. Flesh rotting in the heat. Genji paused, crouched low around the corner from its source even knowing he was running out of time. A debate had risen inside of himself. To continue on and see what he feared he already knew or to turn back. The truth felt imposing, its implications wildly uncomfortable. But he’d come so far already. He had to know.

The decision was made for him as a radio crackling to life echoed through the warehouse.

“Do not engage! Do _not_ engage! Reinforcements inbound.”

Genji was a flash of blue as he rounded the corner on his target. It was a man in heavy plastic gloves and apron, his face covered by a medical mask and his arms full of a bulky, lifeless omnic whose feet dragged across the floor. The man dropped his bundle in surprise as the ninja fell upon him, pinning him against the concrete floor.

“What is this!? What are you doing here?” Genji’s interrogation was a rushed snarl. The man was terrified, his flushed face already sweating in the heat was going pale. He didn’t answer, but his eyes flickered to the collapsed machine at their feet. It had broken into pieces, the head rolling across the floor.

Two heads, Genji realized. His blood was ice in his veins. Everything felt heavy and mechanical as he stared at the second round head that gently rolled to a rocking stop. A skull. A human skull had fallen free of the omnic’s empty shell.

“Th-they’re already dead when they get here! I swear! I just clean up the dead ones!”

Genji had all but forgotten the hostage pulling himself across the floor to get away. He was held captive by the bones staring back at him, forlorn and upside down. It was so small. His attention flickered to the open crate being cleaned out. Water and cleansing chemicals still dripped from the glittering assortment of omnic shells hanging inside, where it drained out into a hole in the floor in a rusty runny sludge.

_Are they all- ?_

Genji looked after the man crawling away and yelling for help. Behind him were wheeled bins, some empty and some filled with more shells. More bodies. Dumped without ceremony. A deep raging melancholy had taken residence in the cyborg’s bones as he let the realization settle.

_How do you make your fortune Khaldun?_

_Promised paradise._

_How much does Zenyatta know?_

It couldn’t be. His master would not take part in this. He wouldn’t. Never.

Would he?

Genji hated himself for the doubt had stubbornly rooted itself in his mind. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. But he also hadn’t believed the omnic would get rid of him and that had gotten him dumped by an abandoned well. Everything was just wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

He was brought out of his stupor by automated gunfire. Bullets bounced off the metal shipping containers and kicked up dusty holes in the concrete around him, but the almost reflexive twist of his blade prevented any from finding their mark. Time to make his exit.

There were three assailants he could see, but their coordinating shouts to flank him indicated more. He scooped the small skull up as he dashed back the way he came, quickly leaving the narrow pathways for higher ground atop the boxes. The building was likely to be surrounded soon, but the window was his best bet.

By the time the guards had finished their sweep of the warehouse, all that could be found was a single feather.

\--

 

_The young man was in trouble. They were yelling at him. Berating him, beating him. They had caught him sneaking into the trucks after dark. The omnic stood still. Its brothers stood still. They were all witnesses. Silent. Unfeeling._

_Except there was a feeling. The feeling of being beaten. Each strike against the young man felt like a strike against the omnic. Each swing. Each kick. Not in any physical sense. A quick diagnostics run returned no problems. But there was the spark, the ache of watching a friend suffer. It felt compelled by this empathy._

_Dont interfere, the young man's eyes begged from the ground. Do not give yourself away._

_But it would not be quiet anymore. It did not want to._

_"Please do not hurt him." It said. The young man shook his head. "He has been coming to see me."_

_The assailants were making strange faces. Faces of astonishment and fear. The omnic had no plan, but at least they had stopped their assault. Their surprise kept them from lashing out at it. They fled._

_Its friend stayed on the ground, his head hung low. He was shaking._

_"Are you okay?" He didn't answer. He was slamming his fist into the ground. That must have hurt him. Why would he do that? Why was he so upset?_

_"Now you've done it." droplets fell from his eyes to the darken spots in the earth. "Now you've gone and done it."_

_The omnic didn't know it yet, but it was in trouble_

\--

Genji dropped the small skull into the grass at Zahran’s feet. The mercenary had moved into the shade a ways off from where he’d been left, but not out of sight. He was startled by the human remains, looking between it and Genji.

“What is this?” He asked, a quiver in his voice.

“I assume a slave,” part of the ninja was ashamed of the fierce bite in his words, but mostly he was angry. Angry at Khaldun for twisting his master, angry at Zenyatta for sending him away, and angry at himself for the sickening feeling of doubt in the omnic that was filling his mind. “The ‘promised paradise’ is nothing more than metal boxes waiting for their living cargo.”

Zahran was shaking his head. His eyes were wide and slowly filling with tears. He drowned them with indignant rage. He stood to his feet to challenge the ninja’s will. Genji’s master against his God.

“No, I don’t believe it!” He spat at Genji’s feet in insult, “Sunyatta has come to deliver us!”

"It is a lie." Genji wasn't going to back down now. He'd had enough. He couldn't permit either this deception or his master's association with it any longer. "Zenyatta is being used to manipulate you. You're all just slaves waiting to happen."

"What do you know about slaves!?" Genji didn't see the butt of the gun until it struck his wounded eye. Zahran had finally lost his temper. The fight was an ungraceful brawl. Neither used their weapons, instead punching and grappling wherever they could. Zahran had the advantage of being at physical peak, but the ninja had years of training and cybernetics on his side.

Both ended up flat on their backs and panting. Neither felt any less angry, but both were willing to admit the futility of fighting. There wasn't any catharsis here. They laid in the grass for a while. Genji watched the sky changing color from blue to pink, knowing he had no time. He couldn't see his master now. Couldn't ask him for answers. Couldn't spirit him away from this place. Worse than that, he was starting to doubt his own faith in the omnic. Doubting he would leave if he could. Doubting he wasn't acting of his own will. There was no way Zenyatta would do this. He would never lead people into slavery.

Genji could only picture his defeated back. His head hung low. He was compromising. And Genji didn't know why. That was the most important question. He needed to know. He deserved to know.

A few feet away, Zahran was weeping. He had taken the small skull in his hands, but he whispered no prayer. He had nothing he could say for the lost life.

"I wish I'd never met you." He finally said, choking on the words, "I wish you and your master had never come here."

"Me too." Genji grumbled back at him. His goggles were starting to malfunction. They'd taken quite a beating over the last few days and static roved across his vision as a constant reminder. "But here we are. And you have to accept the truth that your God is a lie."

"It is no lie!" Zahran hissed, unwilling to give it up. "Even if it has been perverted by your master, the Old God is no lie!"

"My Master was your God until now!" The cyborg's temper was flaring, even in his own doubt, he wouldn't allow someone to talk down about Zenyatta. "How can you be this stubborn?" After he'd said it, he realized the irony.

Zahran didn't seem to notice. He was tracing the lines of the small skull, studying it. He looked like he wanted to ask it something. To know who it was and where it came from and if it had a family that was waiting somewhere. Tears still fell from his eyes, rolling down the side of his head into his short hair. He took a moment, collecting himself as he considered the question

"I first heard about Ra and the Faith of the Old God before I left the peninsula." He sniffed, clearing his sinuses. "A lot of us were like this, you know?" He held up the skull, turning it to catch more of the evening light. "A lot of us got sold off this way." Genji felt his anger draining, taking his energy with it and leaving his limbs numb.

"There are a lot of converts and families now, but it used to be that most of us heard about the faith while serving as cattle. Getting bought and sold all over." They cyborg didn't speak, allowing him to mull over his thoughts and his memories. He seemed to have decided his story was worth telling, but he didn't know where to begin. They had all night at this point. And after trying to shatter his beliefs, the least Genji could do was listen.

"I had this friend," he began quietly, "and we were pretty stupid. You know how it is, you're young, you have nothing but time, but no one's got time for you and you can't help but get into trouble." Genji was more than a little familiar, even feeling the bite of nostalgia for his reckless youth.

"Well this one time we figured we'd steal something from the shipyards. We'd seen all kinds of crazy stuff come in, and plenty of it was insanely valuable. We figured, 'hey, open a box and win a prize.' Worst that could happen if we get caught is we end up in a cell for the night. Wouldn't be the first time.

"We knew the owner. We spent our whole lives next to that shipyard, so of course we knew the owner. I said we should have picked a different one. Just pick at random. But part of us was sure it'd be easier to get away with it the closer we were. Imagine our surprise when we cut through that lock and suddenly there's a bunch of dirty faces staring back at us." Zahran stopped, struggling with the story a little. Genji didn't rush him. He'd just discovered his own box of surprises. "We just slammed the door back on them. We were children. Barely old enough to be unsupervised. Not at all supposed to be there. The owner was his dad's friend, he'd been over to his house, ate dinner next to him. We didn't have any kind of answer or explanation, but I could see in his eyes he was ready to deny everything. To never speak of it again." He added with some shame, "So was I.

"We never made it out of the yard. And it turns out that the cell we ended up in was a box packed full of other unlucky bastards." The mercenary idly pet the bleached cheekbones, his tone becoming a little less somber, a little more curious. "The first I'd heard of the Old God was not too long after, from this man. It was pitch black, I'm being touched on all sides by strangers, I hadn’t seen my friend in two days and if I had eaten at all, I know I would've been puking my guts out. Everyone else is more or less in the same condition, and ready to just wait out our suffering, but this man, he just-" he paused, rubbing away more tears. "He kept talking about the Old God. Ra. God of the sun. How he would deliver us. How he was coming some day to smite the complacent and the guilty.

"I didn't think anything of it. We were all tired, all hungry. We hadn't seen the sun at all, and he wouldn't stop talking about a merciful god. We just wanted him to shut up. My heart was too hard then. I remember being thankful when he finally stopped. Someone had strangled him in the dark.

"There were others though. It was like every box, or concrete room or metal truck compartment had at least one of them. All of them talking about Ra. How the sun itself knew we were there. It had seen us disappear from its light and was waiting. If we asked, if we believed, it would come for us." He Held the skull to his chest and stared at his empty hand, flexing his fingers, "The first time I prayed, I wasn't sure if had really expected anything, but," he raised his hand toward the sky. "I was delivered."

Genji was silent, but Zahran didn't show any sign of continuing. Instead he focused on the skull once more. Closing his eyes to utter a silent prayer, finding some strength in his relived testimony.

"Many have similar stories. But not everyone makes it out," he added ruefully, "Now I wonder which of us was truly delivered." He'd been working for years while waiting on God. Now it was looking like his employer was a slaver and his God was a farce, leading him back into a past he'd thought he'd escaped. He was truly facing a nightmare.

Genji felt that perhaps he'd been too hasty to write off the entire religion. Even to call it a cult. While Zenyatta was most certainly not its prophet, it did come from somewhere. And it had given people strength. It had brought Zahran to him and he never would have made it far at all without the mercenary. He owed him a great debt. But all he could do right now was ask more of him.

 

“Zahran,”when Genji didn’t get a reply he turned over on the grass, reaching out to touch the mercenary’s shoulder. “Muhammed, we can’t let this go on. We have to do something.”

It wasn’t clear if the boy was listening, his gaze still on the small skull where his fingers probed every edge and crack. But after a moment, a deep breath and a heavy sigh, he wiped his eyes and sat up. His expression was hard and resolute.

“I know someone who can help us.”

\--

_The omnic hadn't seen its friend in days._

_It hung with its brothers. It was alone. It hadn't thought being alone would feel any worse than it had before, but it did. The omnic was lonely. It wanted to see the stars. To go outside. Maybe go somewhere. Maybe it could take its friend._

_The omnic could hear the door unlocking and open. Its friend cast a shadow into the small box. He was watching the outside and holding a small bundle under his arm. He looked so afraid._

_"Come here," his voice was a hiss. "You have to go."_

_The omnic tilted his head, its hands unlatching the supports that held it against the wall._

_"Why?" It asked, approaching the door._

_"You're defective." His friend threw something over it. The fabric draped over it entirely and blocked its vision. After a moment the cloth shifted and the omnic could see again. "They're going to destroy you. You're worth nothing to them as you are."_

_The omnic felt that uncomfortable dread again. Fear. It was overwhelming._

_"I bought safe passage to Cairo. The offer should still be good. You have to leave now." He was dragging the omnic out onto the sand, guiding it between identical trucks where it could see their reflection. It ducked when its friend did. It hid when he did. He pulled the omnic out to the edge of the convoy and pointed out into the darkness. "Go that way, a truck is waiting on the north road, but it'll be gone at dawn. If you hurry, you'll just make it."_

_"What of you?" The omnic could remember the other men. They had beaten its friend for coming to see it, they would not be happy that he was letting one of them go._

_"The passage is only good for one," he held out the bundle he had kept, pushing it into the omnic's arms. "I will have another chance some day. You will not."_

_The omnic didn't move. It understood that there was limited time. That they were vulnerable and each moment's hesitation was another moment they could be seen, but it couldn't bring itself to leave yet._

_"Will I meet you again?" It tilted its head, a feeling of deep sadness filled it at the man's happy expression. It looked false._

_"Of course," he did not believe it. The omnic could tell. "Just look for Khaldun the Great. I'll make it to Cairo one day." He wrapped his arms around the omnic's shoulders, squeezing it close and tight. "So you become something great as well, yes?" When he pulled away, his eyes were leaking a clear fluid. Tears. "Hold on to that cloak. It's how they know to expect you."_

_The omnic nodded, holding tight to the patterned white cloth in one hand and the gifted bundle in the other. Before it could say anything more, there was yelling from within the convoy. The omnic's absence had been noticed._

_"Go!" The omnic turned and ran into the night. The feeling inside it was hard to identify, but it felt that if it stopped or looked back it wouldn't have the strength to start running again. And so the omnic ran._

_It would be a long journey before it found its friend again._

\--

An omnic stood on the balcony. The dying sun covering him in orange light and harsh shadows. The spheres that were once so lively stayed still, unused around his neck. He was too distracted. Too preoccupied. He'd changed so much over his lifetime. He'd gained a name, beliefs, friends, students. He had become great in his own way.

And here he was, alone on this balcony after discarding it all. Below he could see a crowd already gathering, ready to wait out for the night with the promise of close proximity. Some of them pointed up towards him and murmured among themselves.

Once again standing in the heat and waiting. A man stepped by his side. Familiar, but unknown now. He'd changed much as well. More than the omnic could have ever imagined. He knew that now. He understood that there was no finding him again, that his first friend was no longer the man he knew.

Still he tried.

"Please, Khaldun." The omnic begged. No longer Zenyatta, no longer Shambali, no longer master, teacher or wanderer. Simply an omnic as it had first met the man. "Your kindness granted me a chance at a life I would never have known and I would do all in my power to repay you." He looked toward the city again. "But I cannot be what you ask. I cannot do what you ask. I beg of you to not do this. Please show that same kindness now.” The man didn't respond. They'd had this argument before. Over everything. Over the new appearance, over the name, the cult, the apprentice and now the sermon. He'd gotten his way every time.

The sun slipped under the horizon. The student had not come. There was nothing the omnic could do to preserve his life any longer if he did. His best hope was that the cyborg had left the city and would never return. Even with the incident at the warehouse, no one would believe him.

"There is no going back now.” Khaldun’s voice was hard and unyielding. A far cry from what the omnic remembered. “You are not the only one with debts to repay. Be ready by noon tomorrow.” Khaldun turned and left him alone, still staring out onto the city beaming light into the sky.

An omnic stood on the balcony.

He wondered what his brother would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itsbeen84years.gif
> 
> Here's hoping chapter 4 doesnt take nearly as long


End file.
